The Hawthorn Tree

A tense Horror tale of dangerous wishes!

Number 2! - The Hawthorn Tree - Number 2

“I miss Ray; I’m really lonely; I’m afraid I’ll always be alone!” slipped easily from my lips and into my little bottle of desire.

As I placed the cork into its neck, I smiled and looked around at the gathered crowd in my front garden. Everyone stood in their private bubble, whispering into their little bottles. It was then that I knew moving to the village had been the best idea. My creativity was flowing again; I had a sculpture commission from the village council, and I felt safer within a small community.

“I wish I could have a baby.”

Everyone had gathered for the first step in building my sculpture, one which the council hoped would draw tourists to our village and show how connected our small, close-knit community was.

“I wish I could see my wife again.”

Hawthorn wishing trees were synonymous with this region of Scotland. I had one growing in the front garden of my renovated Millers cottage. Why not unite the community by using the region's history and folklore, plus encourage tourists to come and whisper a wish, add it to the sculpture, and spend their money in the village? It was simple, direct, and a proposition the council loved.

“I wish I wasn’t married to Carol anymore.”

It allowed me to design a flowing glass sculpture that embodied the village and nature. Since my property faced the market square, with the hawthorn branches stretching wide and wild, it was the perfect place for my idea.

After the initial whispering party, I collected the baubles and placed each bottle on the tree. It took time because I wanted the bottles and the pattern they created to breathe, swirl, and catch your attention.

“Whit th' hell dae ye think ye'r daein' ye daft coo?” From the footpath, a rough voice barked from behind me as I contemplated where to hang the next bottled whisper.

“Excuse me?”

“How come ye messing wi' hawthorn tree?” The old man’s blue eyes burned a pathway of anger through his thick glasses.

“I’m not messing with the tree. I’m creating a sculpture of ‘community’ on the tree.” I grabbed an empty bottle and held it in his direction. “Would you like to whisper a secret or a desire into a bottle, and then I can add it to the sculpture?”

“Na ye dunderheaded besom, ah'ament that’s daft. Thir's naught in this world that wid mak' me draw th' fairy's attention tae me!” He nodded his head sharply in disgust.

“Oh, come on. I know it’s folklore, but you know it’s not true.” I couldn’t help but give a little laugh, which infuriated the old man further. With spittle flying from his mouth, he pointed a warn and arthritic finger at me and then jabbed at the tree.

“Dinnae ye roar at me ye silly lassie. Tak' a' they bottled wishes doon 'n' smash thaim open. Git rid o' th' lot o' thaim afore th' fairies git thair hands oan thaim.”

“Look, I’m sorry you don’t like my sculpture, but I won't be taking anything down, nor will I be smashing anything. And I can assure you, anyone who smashes anything from this tree will have the police called. Good afternoon!” I gathered the few remaining bottles and stormed my way back into my cottage, making sure Tilly, my little Scottish terrier, followed close behind. “Daft of fool… Who the hell is he to tell me what to do?’

The box of full and empty bottles was deposited on my side table by the door. I’d finish the job when that superstitious old fool had gone home.

Dinner was cooked, and I sat in the lounge room eating tea on my lap, watching the news with Tilly, my only companion since my husband Ray had died.

When the knocking at my front door rang out, I still had my dander risen and was in no mood to take any attitude from some silly old codger. I called out as the knocking turned into banging on my front door. “I can hear you; unlike some people, I’m not deaf!”

The knocking continued.

“For goodness sake!” My tea went on the side cabinet as Tilly and I walked into the hall. The old man’s shadow moved against my front door’s mottled glass portal.

The safety chain was on, and as I opened the door to give that old man a piece of my mind, “Do you know what time it…”

No one was there. My front stoop was quite empty. I looked through the gap as best I could. My dander rose, and the front door was swung open.

“Bugga off, you silly old git, and leave me alone; otherwise, I’ll call the police!”

Not a very neighbourly thing to shout out but damn him. Tilly went outside, sniffed the ground, did what she needed to do, and came back in when called.

Slamming my door shut, I was no longer hungry, nor did I want another evening with just me, myself and I. Tilly and I climbed the stairs and began the process of showering, which often leads to me sitting in the shower and crying… and then crawling into bed.

As we lay there, Tilly snuggled at my side, I decided to be positive. I must be happy with the successful idea and refuse to let one old man ruin my creation.

I smiled when I climbed out of bed to look through my window down to the bauble-covered hawthorn. The bottles reflected the moonlight as they hung like shining stars from the broad branches of my tree; every little jewelled twinkle filled my heart with joy. As a car drove by, the tree became alive with the little orbs, glimmering and radiating an afterglow in the light’s caress. It was as if an air of magic had been captured in every bottle, shining out its potential to the world.

It made me feel less empty.

I climbed back next to Tilly’s warm body and fell asleep with a lighter heart. I don’t think I’d been sleeping for too long before Tilly’s growling woke me. My bed was warm and cosy, so there was no way I would even consider letting her outside so she could start barking at a rabbit coming in from the field behind us. Cuddling her close, I patted her in an attempt to provide some comfort. “Shh, Tilly, it’s alright!”

My ministrations had the opposite effect. She revved up a notch, jumped off the bed, and began letting fly at the window facing the hawthorn tree and front road.

“He better not be!” How dare that old man sneak back and destroy my art!

…It was light, almost apologetic in its polite tone, but still, the knock on my front door caught my attention like a whip’s crack and sent a shiver down my spine.

Holding my growling Tilly under my arm, we slowly descended the stairs, listening and watching a shadow move across my front door’s frosted glass.

The gentle knock came again.

Standing a few steps away, I called, “Hello, can I help you?”

“Suzie?” Some form of familiarity greeted me. It didn’t bring me any feelings of security that whoever was outside knew my name.

“Who is it?”

“Suzie!” came scurrying through the door’s gaps.

Stepping as quietly as I could to the door, the security chain was checked, and the deadbolt quietly flipped on.

“Suzie, let me in.”

Fear sent a rush of adrenaline through my system as I spoke authoritatively, “I don’t know who you are, but stop it! Get off my property, or I’m calling the cops.”

Horror burnt my stomach as the door handle turned slowly one way, then back the other. “But you said you’re afraid of being alone, Suzie, and Ray’s not here to help you.”

A woman’s terrified scream was quickly followed by a distant shattering of glass windows and then a man yelling. My neighbours from over the road. Their screams and yells echoed out into the still night, sharing a story of violence and attack.

“Get off my front porch, you sick bastard; I’m calling the cops right now!” I ran into the lounge room, grabbed my phone, and punched 999 into it with my shaking thumb. I was not going to let Tilly go for any reason.

The entity outside laughed quietly and casually commented, “Guess what your neighbours wished for, Suzie!”

I walked back to the bottom of the stairs and watched the door.

“Hello, you’ve reached Bodi Village Police Department, can I help you?”

“Yep, I need a car here now! I’ve got a lunatic on my front porch threatening me, and the people over the road have been attacked. I think they’re hurt because I can still hear them screaming.”

“Suzie?”

My heart skipped a beat. I knew that voice. “Ray?”

“Suzie… help me! They say they’ll let me go if you open the door and let them in.”

As my blood pressure dropped, a buzzing noise rang out through my hearing. “Ray? …Ray?” I struggled to piece together my thoughts as my voice continued to whisper out my disbelief, “Ray… you’re… you’re dead. You die!”

“Don’t you want me back, Suzie?” Ray’s voice sounded hurt by my reaction.

“Ray… you died.”

The voice of Ray was crying and screaming at me down the phone, “They’re hurting me, Suzie. They hurt me all the time. You can rescue me. You can make them stop. Please make them stop…”

All I could do was shriek back, “You’re not Ray. You’re NOT RAY!”

“You can see Ray again, Suzie. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to stop being afraid? Stop being alone?” The shadow lent its weight on my door to test the strength of the old oak.

“No! You’re not Ray!”

Ray bellowed gutturally down the phone, still at my ear, “Let us in, Suzie, so we can gut you like a fish and send you down to hell with Ray!”

“Fuck off!” I threw the phone down and held my growling Tilly to my chest.

A yell and begging pleas from my neighbour, Mr Smitty, came through the still night air, mixing with the terror of my other neighbours. I could hear him scream, pleading over and over again to whatever was attacking him to stop.

“Stop it! Stop hurting him!”

The voice outside my front door only laughed quietly, “Oh, but it’s all your fault, Suzie, you bottled their fears and hung them on our tree! What are naughty little fairies supposed to do, ay? Surely, we can have one night of fun?”

My door reverberated with a loud bang; someone… or something had just kicked at the lock. “Let me in, Suzie; I wanna play with you!”

Another bone-rattling kick landed on the door’s lock, inducing me to put Tilly onto the ground and lean all my weight against the door.

A cold shiver goosbumped across my skin as I watched the dark shadow through the frosted panel push its face up to mine so it could look at me. In terror, I squatted down on the floor, as far away as I possibly could be from the panel of glass.

“I want in Suzie! I want inside of you!”

With one final body slam, my door smashed against the security chain, straining it tight. I didn’t have time to move before a pitch-black taloned and hairless nightmare arm grabbed my throat, digging its razor claws into my flesh before it began to squeeze the very life out of me, causing rivulets of fresh blood to trickle down my skin.

“Soon, you won’t be alone anymore, Suzie.”

I could only gag and thrash my hands about, searching for something to hit the arm with.

Ferociously, Tilly sank her teething into the dark limb, forcing it to let go and pull upwards. We both scrambled together against the stairs. I was too frightened to let Tilly go in case she somehow got out the door’s gap and into the night with that monster.

The fairies arm clawed its taloned fingers about scratching at the back of the door as it slowly began moving towards the chain’s lock.

“No!” was the only thought that charged through my brain. Kicking the back of the door with both feet, I squashed and pinched the arm between the door and frame.

With every double kick, I screamed “NO!” and the fairy yelled in pain. Over and over again, but still, it kept its arm in the gap.

An empty, little wish bottle rolled from the knocked-over table and towards me. I watched as the moonlight streaming through the gap in the door made the bauble sparkle. Grabbing it, I whispered into its narrow neck, “I wish all the fairies would go to hell …Right NOW!” and then threw the bottle out through the gap. It must have hit the fairy because it screamed like I’d set it on fire. Its arm thrashed about, and then my door slammed shut.

The fairies’ screaming was gone, and now only my neighbours, terrified and crying, filled the night.

Holding Tilly, I sobbed and tried to keep my shit together; 999 was dialled again.

“Hello, you’ve reached Bodi Village Police Department, can I help you?”

Relief flooded my system as I wept down the phone, “Please help me, we’ve been attacked. Send the police, please. My neighbours are hurt, please help me.”

“Suzie…”

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